


Look At Us Go

by UndeadRejection



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universes, Anxiety, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Game(s), Trolls and humans live on earth, Unresolved Romantic Tension, and somehow the earth didnt throw a fit and history hasnt been drastically altered, but there will be A Lot, panic attacks and anxiety only implied rn but thats likely to change, tags to be added as story progresses, theoretically theyve been there for over a hundred years after their planet died or smth, w/e thats not even what this is about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndeadRejection/pseuds/UndeadRejection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is just a normal kid, living a normal life.<br/>...<br/>Okay, maybe not. Karkat is a totally freaky kid, trying to live a normal life - 'trying' being the operative word.<br/>Whatever. It's the first day of the second semester of his junior year, and the universe isn't going to push him around anymore.<br/>(Or: his optimistic outlook on life lasts negative five seconds when his insomnia returns, partnered with what may or may not be a Facebook stalker and what <em>definitely aren't</em> inter-dimensional teleportation powers. Cue <em>It's A Hard Knock Life</em>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look At Us Go

**Author's Note:**

> I cant believe Twitches came out in 2005

_tick_  
_tock_  
_tick, tock_  
_ticktockticktockticktock-_

Karkat springs up in his coon, terror's icy fingers gripping his bloodpusher. He already feels like today is going to be shit, and also like he should really invest in some higher quality sopor. No small amount of slime slides off his face. His husktop is sitting open on the small set of drawers next to his pod, blinking the time and date at him: 6:29 A.M., January 7th. Today is the first day of the second semester of junior year, and he just woke up from a nightmare because _oh no the passage of time is so terrifying,_ seriously what the fuck. He groans, resting his head in his hands, tapping the tips of his small horns with his fingers and feeling his mind fog over with sleep, in no small part due to the excess sopor in his hair.

_ticktock_

Nope.

 _There's no point going back to sleep now,_ he tells himself. _Might as well just get up and deal with it. But Kankri will already be awake…_ He considers, very briefly, whether he would rather put up with his pseudo-brother this early in the morning, or just go back to sleep and suffer from awful terrible bad dreams. It isn't a hard decision to make, and he sighs to himself as he exits the warm embrace of his recuperacoon, only to be greeted by a frozen fucking tundra, flinching when his slimy toes touch the cool wooden floor.

"Fuck," he hisses to himself, throwing a towel over his shoulders and shuffling to the bathroom to shower.

He dons his usual winter outfit - a shit-ton of layers topped by his favourite sweater (dark grey with a white crab and the word ‘crabby’ beneath it, also in white), lovingly knitted for him by Kanaya, and a beanie that Rose and Dave made him for his last birthday. They alternated crocheting lines, colour-coding their work purple and red respectively, so the beanie looks like an unholy clusterfuck and Dave's sections are infinitely more awful than Rose's, but Karkat treasures it anyway. Usually Alternian attire would require horn holes, but Karkat's are small enough that it isn't necessary. It's both a blessing and a curse.

Upon his entry to the kitchen, Kankri looks up from where he's cooking a wholesome family breakfast of eggs and bacon. There are three places set at the small kitchen table, a single bottle of grubsauce between them. "You're up early," says Kankri, brow furrowing.

"Yeah," Karkat shrugs it off. "Dad still asleep?" He prays that maybe, just this one time, Kankri will take the bait.

"He is," Kankri confirms, placing a plate in front of him that looks awfully like a sad face - two egg eyes and a bacon frown. "But more to the point, Karkat, if you're struggling with insomnia again, you really should-" Ugh. _Ugh,_ no, Karkat did not get up this early in the morning to listen to Kankri nag at him, it's time to goddamn go.

"Talk about it?" He cuts him off; Kankri is so predictable it's painful. "Sure, I'll make sure to do that. But not with you. With anyone but you, really. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to school." He picks up a crispy (burnt, just slightly, but burnt all the same) rasher of bacon and goes to his room to get his shit and leave. "You're still over an hour early!" Kankri calls after him, clearly dismayed.

Ever studious (read: paranoid), Karkat had packed his bag the night before, but he still looks around his room to make sure he isn't missing anything as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, bacon in his mouth, and stops when his eyes fall on his husktop, still open beside his coon from when he'd fallen asleep the night before.

He falters, hesitating, before he just shakes his head at himself for being an idiot and takes some screenshots, syncing them to his phone to show his friends later because this doesn't have any real significance, it's just some asshole screwing with him and they'll get a real kick out of it.

Oh God, he hopes so. He really, really hopes so, needs it to be so, and that's what he tells himself as he slips on his shoes, brushes his teeth, and begins the walk to school.

More than an hour early, goddammit. The building won't even be open yet, Karkat thinks to himself as he ducks into an alley to let a herd of excitable dogs pass him, tailed by what appears to be an exhausted walker. He can't for the life of him understand why people bother with dogs when cats are so much easier - not that he even _has_ a cat, because Kankri is deathly allergic. Whatever. He pulls up Snapchat and sends Jade a picture of all the cute doggies, which she simply replies to with her smiling face and a thumbs up because she is, regrettably, an early riser and entirely too smug about how adorable she is.

He sighs. How are all of his friends so attractive? And here he is, forced to ugly duckling his way through life, but in this universe swans don't exist and he's actually just a very sad duckling. Ugh.

Knowing Jade, while awake, will be too busy to come to school early with him - the farm she lives on is close, comparatively, but she has chickens to feed and a John to wake up - he opts to message Dave instead, who seems to be awake at all hours and always down to get out of his house. They never talk about why that is, but all of their friends are always happy to host Dave when he comes asking (read: obliquely suggesting, because he's _Dave_ ), and don't even mention the bruises.

As far as Karkat is aware, Dave had spent all of Christmas break with his Bro, which… he still can't decide whether to consider it a good or a bad thing. He wishes Dave could just move in with Rose. Or him. Or any of them, but it isn't that simple. Human custody battles are stupid and weird. Pushing that out of his mind, he considers sending a text, and then decides on a Trollian message instead; Dave tends to miss texts with his phone on vibrate, but the ding of a Pesterchum notification never slips past him.

> \-- carcinoGeneticist [ CG ] started trolling turntechGodhead [ TG ] at 06:57 --
> 
> CG: So maybe I'm enough of an idiot to have already left the house to get away from Kankri.  
>  CG: And maybe that means that I'm walking to school.  
>  CG: Bored out of my pan.  
>  CG: Totally alone.  
>  CG: Meet me there? Or don't, whatever. I guess I'll just have to suffer on my own.
> 
> \-- turntechGodhead is an idle chum! -- 

He continues walking, feeling his heavy grubpack jostle behind him with every step. He should really start learning to drive soon. Or start pressuring Sollux to drive, maybe - he's the one with the nearest birthday, and his address is convenient for carpooling. Yeah. Good idea, Karkat.

Five minutes pass and there's no response from Dave. He pretends valiantly that his stomach does not sink, and he is instead annoyed by this inconvenience. He returns his phone to his pocket, hand fisted around it - Jesus, it's cold - only to feel it vibrate two seconds later; Dave is now online.

> CG: Fuck you, man  
>  CG: I have all these quality shitposts and you give me nothing in return.  
>  TG: whoa what  
>  TG: first of all good morning to you too karkat  
>  CG: I can't believe  
>  CG: Oh, hey Dave.  
>  TG: it certainly is a wonderful day  
>  TG: holy god karkat its barely even 7 am  
>  TG: second of all  
>  TG: nobody said anything about shitposts  
>  TG: but even so they are my one true weakness what do i have to do to get my feminine little hands on em  
>  CG: The shitpost is my life. Over 7 sweeps on this Earth only to learn that I am the ultimate shitpost.  
>  TG: cool  
>  CG: I have screenshots. If you want to see, come to school.  
>  CG: Wait, I thought shitty clipart was your one weakness?  
>  TG: same thing  
>  TG: ill b there in 20 k  
>  TG: see ya on the flip side  
>  CG: You are the lamest person I have ever had the misfortune of knowing and John Egbert is one of my best friends.  
>  TG: thx <3

Karkat stares down at the little heart emoticon, not sure how to reply, or if he even should. He knows Dave is just doing it to be 'ironic', and knows even better that playing along just ends with their conversation in weird places, and he is not equipped to handle either a Dave Strider sexuality breakdown, or the measures Dave will go to to justify an ‘ironic no homo’ this morning. Shrugging, he shoves his phone back in his pocket, and then does the same with his hands as he walks, exhausted.

The small patch of grass between the sidewalk and the road is covered by a light blanket of snow. Fuck, cold weather is such bullshit. A yawn squeezes itself out from behind his sharp teeth; he watches his breath dissipate in the air. He's so tired.

It feels like he's dragging his feet through knee-deep water, like he's walking out to sea but the waves just push him back and back and back, until he feels them lapping over his ankles, and he slows to a stop and it feels… it feels like he's standing on the beach and the entire world is moving around him, as though he is a fixed point and the entire galaxy could just _shift-_

and _no, fuck no, he isn't going anywhere he is staying right goddamn there but-_

his eyes are closed he always closes them, but he can feel it his feet aren't on the ground, _fuck_ he hopes nobody saw him, shit he needs to figure out a place before he-

because he can pull it back but he can't stop it, he can barely control it, he can't, why _him-_

he's in the alley behind the old 7/11 by the school, he's there he _is_ he has to be, that's his destination nowhere else, nowhere further, _nononono,_ he is present he's here he won't leave not again.

And it happens, like a rush as if he falls back into his body, his knees buckle and he scrapes his hands on the concrete and he retches and coughs and splutters, but nothing comes up _thank God,_ normally Karkat calls himself agnostic but right now he might just believe.

When he can breathe again, he musters up the courage to open his eyes, and is greeted by a brick wall.

He heaves out a relieved sigh, his palms stinging hot. Red tinged tears prick at his ganderbulbs, but he holds them in, Dave will arrive in - fuck, fifteen minutes, and now there's blood on his phone, this is what he gets for checking the time - and he doesn't want him to be suspicious. He has band-aids and tissues in his bag, shit, he hates his blood, hates blood in general, why _him,_ his head is spinning.

Karkat patches up his hands slowly, taking a second to clench his eyes shut and focus on not vomiting and/or passing out. It had been so long since a shift, he was almost convinced it was something he'd made up as a kid - but no. Shifting is very much a horrifying real thing that happens to him.

He uses all the band-aids he has, and pushes the trash into the front zip pocket of his black backpack before pushing himself to his feet, swaying on jelly walkstubs, knees shaking. Slapping his face lightly with his hands - not light enough, ouch, ouch, it stings - he reprimands himself. This is not traumatic, not a big deal, not a thing. Hell, this didn't even happen, or at the very least, he better fucking act like it.

"Get it together," he snarls at himself, letting out another shaky breath. "Fuck."

"Fuck!"

His hands are tingling, no, no anxiety, not today. Shaking them out, he hops from foot to foot. Fuck, it's cold. Fuck.

He checks the time again; 7:13. There's no point waiting around for the morning smokers to find him. He's done hanging out with Gamzee's group.

The concrete steps leading up to the doors of the school are freezing under his ass, but Karkat would rather that than having to fake casual standing up. Cheeks flushed (bright red undoubtedly showing through his gray skin - it's stupid to care but he does), he can see his warm breath steaming in front of his face, and he crosses his arms tightly around his knees to fend off the cold. It's very ineffective.

That's exactly how Dave finds him - he walks with a slouch in a way that he thinks is cool but actually makes him look like an antisocial dork (something that anyone who actually associates with him knows he really is), but he straightens up into a half-jog when he sees Karkat, who snickers at the sight. Dave's red hoodie is unzipped, as usual - Dave himself somehow invulnerable to the cold - and his oversized beanie snugly fits over almost his entire head, a few strands of bleach blonde fringe poking out over his eyes and nose, which, along with his cheeks, are bright red. His shades, given to him by John, are in their usual place while the tassels of his purple-green hat (a gift similar to his and Rose's for Karkat, the inspiration in fact, was instead manufactured by Rose and Kanaya) hang on his shoulders like twin braids. Karkat would never admit it, but the pompoms - three, one up top and one on each tassel - are kind of adorable, in a Dave-Strider-is-a-total-fucking-loser kind of way.

"Did you straighten your hair again?" is the first thing Karkat says to him, characteristically loud as Dave rocks on his heels in front of him. He snorts audibly. "You're such a hipster shit."

"First of all, fuck you," comes Dave's retort, as he sits down next to Karkat, hissing at the concrete. "And second of all, fuck you again, I came for memes but all I get are outdated insults instead."

Karkat rolls his ganderbulbs, looking at Dave as he unlocks his phone with one hand. "Nice scarf," he says, staring down at what appears to be a white scarf made for a small child, and also _Frozen_ merchandise, covered in little blue and purple snowflakes as well as Elsas and Annas. (It is twenty-fucking-sixteen. _Let it go_.)

"Thanks." Dave grins at him - _shit too pretty ugly duckling_ \- and reaches up to undo it. "But you're freezing your ass off man, I think you need it more than I do." And then he slings it around Karkat's neck folded in half, pulling the ends through the loop and man he is _close,_ Karkat can feel his warm breath on his face.

"Dave, no!" But he doesn't make a move to stop him. The scarf is tight, and so small it almost doesn't even fit. He's gonna get weird looks for this all day.

"An excellent argument, but consider this rebuttal: Dave yes," he replies, sitting back down next to Karkat, closer than he was before.

"That's my line. Oh my god, Dave. You fucking stole my line this is _plagiarism_ , I'm gonna have to call my lawyer and by God she is going to lick the shit out of your face." But he's grinning, they both are. Things are so _easy_ with Dave.

"Oh my God, Karkat, it's a private joke, available for recall by anyone in on the joke, and also I really think that if that's what your lawyer does to you, you should look into getting a new one." He does his best to prop his elbow up on Karkat's shoulder casually, but he is just too short. Karkat grins toothily. Get rekt, Strider.

"Maybe you have a point," Karkat concedes. "Say, do you know any lawyers equipped to deal with identity theft?"

A dark eyebrow appears over top Dave's shades. "What." 

"No? Well, how about legislacerators? Maybe that would be preferable, actually-"

"No, Karkat, seriously, _what_."

"I wasn't kidding about the shitpost being my life, Dave. I think it's a shitty joke - probably Sollux or some shit, I don't fucking know. Just… Read this." Trying not to sound too shaken by this bullshit, he hands his phone to Dave, who has long since stopped commenting on the shattered screen, even as his own remains in one piece. He does, however, deign to mention Karkat's fucked up hands.

"Whoa man, how'd you fuck up your hands?" And if his brow is a little furrowed and his tone sounds a little worried, neither of them mention it.

Karkat shrugs it off. "Tripped on the way here, no big deal. Cold concrete stings like a motherfucker, what else is new."

"Right," Dave says, sounding sceptical before brushing it off. "Guess they just weren't marked up enough from that time you accidentally punched a window, huh?" Karkat groans, rolling his eyes - no one will ever let that go. "Hey." Dave nudges him with an elbow. "Your co-ordination sucks shit, but at least your claws are still perfect, right?" He's teasing, but Karkat is actually proud of his claws (at the very least, compared to a human's useless fingernails), so it isn't very effective. Dave turns his attention to the screenshots. Karkat doesn't mind waiting while he reads, feeling the warmth of Dave's body leaning against his side.

"Shit man, this guy can even rant like you do. 'On what fucked up version of God's green Earth could you be braindead enough to think any of this is acceptable, let alone a good idea. What possessed you and your idiotic fucking friends to do this. What criminalistic ghoul has overcome you for you to decide to steal my identity for shits and giggles, and why would you put in all the effort to photoshop pictures. You are the creepiest bulgesucker I have ever encountered and I hate that you exist, please do me a favour and suck a bag of human dicks you wasted sack of useless particles. May God put you me and everyone else on Earth out of the misery of having to put up with this fucked up bullshit, because your sheer douchefuckery has convinced me that I no longer want to live. I eagerly await our mutual descent into hell.' That's one for the books, bro." Dave's monotone reading is a heavy contrast to the aggressive style the messages had been received in.

"Yeah, and that's just his introduction," Karkat agrees. "It goes on like that for a while-"

"Right, because you're just as bad as he is. Or he's just as bad as you are, I guess, since he's-" Karkat just knows he's going to start rambling.

"Oh my mothergrub, Dave, just read. I asked him about the capslock, and apparently his keyboard is broken or something? But I think he just got a kick out of typing like a tool."

"Fuck off Karkat, I know you're agnostic, you can say 'God'. This guy definitely did. Makes sense about the caps, though. He sure does _sound_ like a tool," Dave responds, still skim reading. (Karkat very magnanimously chooses not to be offended by Dave essentially calling him a tool, fully aware of how much of a whiny little asshole he can be at times. Shit, he hopes that isn't what he sounds like to other people all the time. Fuck.) 

It takes Dave some time to read the entire conversation - it had been a long one, what with both Karkat and his… counterpart being especially verbose. There was, of course, no resolution to be achieved from it, as is often the case when dealing with Karkat singular, let alone _Karkats,_ plural. Karkat berates himself internally for thinking that way - _obviously_ he's the only Karkat. More than one Karkat is impossible. Obviously. (He ignores the niggling thought in his pan that says there's a way because _no_. He's not gonna make himself paranoid over something that isn't true.)

Dave lets out a low whistle when he passes the phone back to Karkat, who pockets it again. "So that's fucked." It's said conversationally, as if they're discussing the weather. Karkat huffs out a breath. Of course Dave isn't taking it seriously, because it's a joke. It has to be a joke.

"No shit." They fall quiet. Karkat is… really kind of freaked out. But he shouldn't be, because it's just a joke. A prank. Something John and Sollux cooked up, or one or more of their other friends, or even just a really dedicated fucked up stranger. Which is… still freaky, actually. Shit.

"So just to rehash things," Dave says, almost hesitant. "I know that you're Karkat, because I've known you since we were kids and am talking to you right now."

"Right," is his response, because that's pretty true, he guesses.

"But last night, this guy - Karkat…"

"Karkat Noir," Karkat Vantas supplies.

"Karkat Noir. He messaged you on Facebook-"

"Evisceracebook," Karkat corrects.

"Man, I get that you're on this Alternian terminology thing because you know it totally rustles my jimmies or whatever, but the truth is, it totally rustles my jimmies, so I'm not about to play along, and you know that, so let's skip this whole song and dance for today, alright?" He waits for Karkat to respond, eyebrows propped over his shades.

"Sure, whatever," Karkat acquiesces.

"Cool, so he messaged you on _Facebook_ , totally raging about how you stole his identity and have been impersonating him for years. When really, because you're the real Karkat, clearly _he's_ the stalker, and has just now gotten sick of waiting for senpai to notice him."

"He's not a _stalker,_ Dave, my life isn't a shitty drama, thank fuck. But other than that, yeah I guess. I mean, all I know for sure is that he's using my name and a picture of me, and then messaging me like a fucking asshole. I just really don't get why this is happening." He doesn't even bother mentioning the senpai comment - all attempts to get Dave to stop being a goddamn weeb have failed thus far, there's no reason for that to change now.

"Have you considered that you're identical twins, and maybe your life has actually been a Disney Channel original all along?" He's kidding of course, but Karkat can't help treating the matter with a certain amount of seriousness.

"Yeah, but then why are we both named Karkat?" Karkat frowns. "That wouldn't make sense. Worst movie ever, and I thought _Twitches_ was bad already."

" _Twitches Too_ was worse." Dave hums, considering. "Which one of you has had a Facebook longer? I mean, obviously it's you, but you can get stalkerman to shut up that way."

 _"Not a stalker,"_ Karkat glares before shaking his head. "We're not rancorpals and he has everything set to private, so I can't even debunk any of the shit he's saying. Ugh." He drops his head onto his crossed arms, the very picture of stress and frustration. "I hate this."

"You're… pretty rattled by this, huh?" Karkat determinedly does not look at him.

"Mngpfh." Wow, Karkat, so eloquent. Way to go. "It's creepy as fuck, okay."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dave lift a hesitant hand to his shoulder, falter before making contact, and then return it to his side. The gesture is appreciated, however half-assed it may be. They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Karkat sees fit to fill the gap with idle conversation. He still doesn't raise his head, though he does turn to the side, peeking out of his right eye to look at Dave sideways.

"How was your Christmas?" He asks, because they're friends and he's interested in that sort of thing.

Dave shrugs. "It was alright. There's still hella lights strung up in my apartment, totes ironic." He frowns. "Also kind of a trip hazard. Think I should probs take 'em down before they kill me or something. You guys still down for that gift exchange thing?"

Karkat lifts his head. "Hell yeah," he grins. "It's tradition man, we do it every year. John's probably hosting, if his dad somehow isn't sick of us yet. God knows how, but apparently I managed to get my shit in order early this year. I'd call it miraculous, but fuck that guy. I trust Lalonde is, once again, procrastinating as much as possible?"

"Of course," Dave snorts. "She won't even tell me how ready she is, so it's probably even worse than usual, which is super encouraging. But there's still the rest of this week, so. She'll pull through somehow, she always does."

"Probably with Kanaya's help," adds Karkat, and they both snigger like children.

"Oh yeah, so much 'help'," Dave agrees, putting on a falsetto voice. "Hey, babe, I see you're struggling there. Allow me to give you a totally non-homoerotic back massage while you finish up that cross stitch."

Karkat is laughing already - so hard its gone right back around to silent, his shoulders shaking as the smallest, breathiest giggles escape his lips - but Dave just has to make one last comment. "They're so gay, how do they even function?"

And Karkat just. He has to. "You realise the others all say that about us, too, right?" He'd be holding his breath if he wasn't wheezing to hell and back - asthma, maybe? Damn his genetics - as he waits for a response, almost regretting even saying it. Dave is long since over all his 'no homo' bullshit - or at least, past meaning it genuinely, using it as a joke and/or ironic cover up instead - but he still gets put on edge when they talk about it. They're trying to work through it.

"Well they're not wrong," comes the answer, not even missing a beat, and Karkat meets his fistbump.

They pass the time that way, joking and laughing, nudging each other with their elbows until their ribs ache (from laughing or elbowing, neither can be sure), until teachers and students start to arrive and the building is unlocked.

"Wanna go inside?" asks Dave breathlessly, unable to mask his smile - not even a closed-lipped one, but the corners of his mouth pulled back tightly until his teeth are visible. Karkat can see where his left canine is chipped from a particularly rugged game of field hockey two years ago (John's fault, naturally. Clumsy idiot).

He takes a second to ponder before lifting his shoulders irresolutely. "Like, what's the point? My ass has already warmed up this patch of concrete, we might as well wait for the others to get here instead of going inside and sitting down on cold tiles instead."

Dave doesn't argue. "Man it's just _so great_ being your friend. I love getting constant updates about what your ass is doing."

"What's that about Karkat's ass, Dave?" Comes Rose's voice from behind them, because she's creepy as shit. Both of them stiffen, as is customary when in her presence. Karkat can hear her smirking.

"Nothing!" Dave shoots back quickly, as if he actually has something to be ashamed of. _This can't possibly count as an actual Freudian slip,_ Karkat thinks as she walks around the duo to stand at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at them knowingly with her hair curled perfectly and pink earmuffs in place. He fails to suppress a shudder, but manages to pass it off as being from the cold; though she doesn't seem convinced, going off of the way her lips curl satisfactorily.

Rose Lalonde is quite possibly the shortest among all of their friends, yet easily the most intimidating despite her diminutive stature - it probably has something to do with her interest in the occult, and the black lipstick she wears near constantly. Karkat feels like a deer in headlights. He has no idea how this happened.

He isn't _afraid_ of her, okay. Just her uncanny ability to know all his deepest secrets even before he does. It's unfair, and quite frankly black magic. (It's common knowledge that at the girls' nights she hosts, they have pillow fights and _séances_. There is a lot to fear about Rose, if you dig deeper than her eerie cordiality enough to know her well. Supposedly she stops being terrifying once you can look past all of that to see how silly she can be, like Dave with his irony. Karkat is getting there, he thinks. At least, Kanaya assures him so.)

"Good morning, Karkat," she greets, her eyes flitting to the scarf around his neck before once again locking eyes with Dave. He says nothing, the expression on his face looking like she's caught him red-handed with a dirty secret.

"Lalonde," Karkat acknowledges. "Are you going to sit down or just stand there all day?"

She nods in a way that could be a concession, and her lips curl even further. So much curling. Curves and curls and twists, that's all she is. He sees why Kanaya finds her so pleasant - they're so opposite and yet so similar. They complement each other.

"How were your breaks?" Rose asks, tucking her knees in tightly as she takes a seat beside Dave, who hesitates before answering.

"Meh. Christmas is always boring with Bro. He's a terrible cook, but at least we actually had instant ramen in the apartment this year." Karkat suspects - has suspected for a while - that rather than Bro being a terrible cook as Dave always claims, Dave has instead never seen the man even attempt to cook. He doesn't mention it.

Rolling his eyes, Karkat says, "Kankri remains an enormous thorn in my backside, but I guess it was pretty good. I got the new book I wanted, and Dad actually spent most of the day with us instead of at the church this year. How was yours, Rose?"

She groans, dropping her head in her hands. "My mother very nearly bought me a pony, and I very nearly _let her_. I'd go so far as to call it a traumatic experience. She did, however, spend half the day inebriated. That's an _improvement_ on last year, believe it or not. We have a cat now, I don't know where he came from. I don't even want to know. His name is Viceroy Bubbles von Salamancer. Mom didn't go into work once the entire time we were on winter break. I think that was her gift to me." She makes the experience sound awful, as though she's frustrated with someone. Whether that someone is her mother or herself, Karkat can't tell.

He also can't tell how much of that is supposed to be a joke. Her sincerity is goddamn impossible to read, and he just about has an aneurysm when Dave pats her shoulder comfortingly, which is also probably a joke? Or a jokingly serious response to a serious call for help wrapped up in joking complaints?

He just doesn't understand why they can't be real with each other when they both seem to manage it with him just fine, but if it works for them, well… It's not exactly his business is it? These are the same thoughts that go through his mind every time he watches them interact, which is often, considering they are half-siblings (and, he believes, pseudo-moirails, regardless - or perhaps because - of the human tendency to pale-flirt with seemingly anything that moves).

Rose is back to her infuriatingly smug self within seconds, as if her breakdown hadn't occurred at all. And maybe it hadn't? Fucking human sarcasm. Sometimes Karkat thinks he could wax black for her, but it's better that he doesn't - he knows he's no match. He could never be the rival she deserves. In addition, her thinkpan probably can't handle caliginous romance, and it would probably be an incredibly awkward situation, considering the way things are heading with Dave, her human half-sibling, and the pale-ashen _fling_ he had (still has, on occasion, it's complicated) with Kanaya, who has almost mustered the courage to officially ask Rose to be her matesprit. So close and yet so far, Karkat finds their situation quite unfortunate, and that's to say nothing of his own.

Kanaya arrives not long after Rose, bidding them all good morning as she nods at Karkat, performing the long-as-balls secret handshake that she apparently has with Dave perfectly, not even looking. He doesn't even know when or how they came up with it, but it's recently become a staple of their interactions and he's learned to accept it. They are weirdly close for not actually spending that much time together. It's… cute, actually. The handshake ends with a fist bump that they then 'blow up', making dramatic exploding noises with their mouths, and Kanaya sits primly next to Rose, careful to pull her long skirt out from under her feet - being of colder blood than the rest of them, Kanaya barely dresses up for the chill. 

Her cropped turtleneck hangs loosely just above her hips, skirt flowing out from underneath it and stopping just above the heeled ankle boots that she ~~had been pining after forever~~ received for Christmas. Her height is already preposterous, but no matter what she wears or how high her heels get, she never looks awkward. Ever. Karkat once again repeats his time-tested mantra: too pretty. Ugly duckling.

They fall silent after a small amount of idle chatter. It's a comfortable silence, though, one born of- oh of course there goes Dave, breaking it. That was short-lived as hell.

"So did you guys hear about Karkat's stalker?" He's leaning partially over Rose to make sure both of them hear him, and then speaking loud enough that Karkat can hear him on his other side anyway. He sounds fit to burst, like he couldn't hold it in, but of course that's how things always are with Dave, at least from Karkat's experience; he holds things in for as long as he can, and then longer still, until they all come pouring out in a messy jumble to be cleaned up by whoever's around him. Usually Karkat. That sure is how the sexuality thing went down, at least. Karkat learned a very important lesson from that endeavour: Dave Internalises Things.

"Dave, _no one's_ heard about my stalker- fuck, now you've got me saying it!" He leans forward to peer around Dave and says clearly, "don't let this idiot fool you, okay. I don't have a stalker." Dave turns to show him his shocked face - evidently very offended. Not.

Karkat rolls his ganderbulbs, ignoring him. "It's just someone impersonating me on Evisceracebook and then messaging me and accusing me of being the asshole. Which, surprise! I'm always the asshole, in every situation. It's very frustrating but also _not a big deal_." He gives Dave - who raises his hands in surrender - a pointed look.

"Fine, sorry, sorry," he mumbles, hands still in the air. He puts them down when Karkat stops looking at him, leaning forward to listen to Kanaya.

"And you're sure this isn't a cause for concern, Karkat?" There's a wrinkle in her brow, and from his new vantage point he can see her hand laced with Rose's. Shit, that's adorable.

"Yeah, don't worry about it, Kan. It's just some guy being a dick, probably John or Sollux, to be honest." That seems to puts her somewhat more at ease, but Kanaya has always been one to worry and fuss and meddle, and most likely will always be. He knows this well - it's what makes her such a good pale partner, not to mention her affinity for auspisticism. Kanaya is a goddamn modern day hero.

"What if it's not?" Rose pipes up, perfect eyebrows curved upwards. All these curves, fucking christ.

"We’re not going to think about that," he replies smoothly. "Put those eyebrows back the fuck down." It's always important to cut her off before she can start with the skullfucking. He is not in the mood today.

Her eyebrows slowly and dramatically move back to their usual place. Goddammit, Lalonde. He breathes out a sigh of relief when she's done.

That's about when Jade and John show up - the front of the school has a drop off/pick up lane for vehicles, and just like every morning of the previous semester, Jade zips through and stops in front of them on her sweetass motorcycle. John jumps off the back, handing her his helmet, and she waves hello and announces she's just gonna park up her bike, then zips off again. John climbs the steps to sit himself down next to Karkat, hands shoved as deep into the pockets of his dark blue hoodie as they'll go.

"Hey guys!" He greets, chipper as always, before turning a teasingly critical eye on his best friend. "Wow, Dave, if you were any closer to Karkat you'd be in his lap." Because John is a fucking idiot every day of the week, except for the one time you'd rather he _didn't_ notice something.

Dave's blushing. Maybe? It's probably just the cold. Shit. "Excuse me for making use of our walking talking space heater, Egbert. Don't want him to think he's being neglected, shit, we paid so much for the damn thing. And damn, maybe I wouldn't even be this close if Rose would move her ass, but as always, it is firmly all the way up in my grill, so deep that-" 

"I'm gonna stop you there," Karkat says. "That was only going weird places and you know it, Strider."

"Thank you, Karkat. Once again you've saved us all."

"All in a day's work, Lalonde," he grunts. Yeah, they're… kind of friends now? He guesses. She's like John, in a way - the more time you spend around her, the more you get used to her weird charm.

"This is cyberbullying," Dave pouts. (Too pretty. Ugly duckling.)

"Just because you spend so much time on the internet doesn't mean you can apply the same standard to everyone else, Dave," says Kanaya carefully. "This is the real world now. Please at least attempt to acclimate yourself."

"Shit, Dave," John tries (and fails) to whisper, "you just got served by _Kanaya_." Karkat wants to get offended on her behalf, but he knows what John is referring to - she was never really one for sarcasm, or much more than light teasing, before he introduced her to the others. The ever increasing amount of time she spends with Rose has changed her; not necessarily in a bad way. She has more fun now. It's nice. He's proud of her.

"Shit, John," Dave replies. "You dissing my good bro Kanaya? Because let me tell you, that is just unacceptable. Kanaya and I are so tight, it's like a good jar of Kraft mayo. Too tight, you can't even open it. You struggle with that jar, twist it in your hands every which way, but the lid just won't come off. Eventually all you can do is sigh and stick the entire jar back in the cupboard because the jar and lid are straight up fuckin' inseparable. That's how tight we are. Right, Kanaya?"

Kanaya looks at Rose as though she isn't sure how to respond. Rose simply shrugs. "Right," Kanaya hazards. "That's. Yes. Though I'd like to add that I'm sure I would have no battle with any such jar, unlike my weaker companions such as Dave, or you, John."

"Shit, John," Karkat's smiling, because this is a delicious moment. It tastes like victory. "You just got fucking served by Kanaya." Dave holds his fist up for a bump and he meets it, the both of them staring John down with shit-eating grins. (Rose's frosty eyes are also on him, Karkat notices.)

"Get dunked on," adds Kanaya smugly, practically glowing. 

"Holy shit, guys, I get it!" He groans, pushing up his square glasses and leaning behind his friends to project his voice to Kanaya at the other end of the line. "I'm super sorry for dissing your sick burns, Kanaya!"

She sniffs disdainfully. "Perhaps I'll forgive you after the gift exchange this weekend. Perhaps not."

"Oh, come ooon! I promise I got you something super super awesome!" John's whining, hands gripping Karkat's arm and shaking it with every drawn out syllable. Jesus, he actually seems desperate.

Karkat nudges him with an elbow. "Calm down, Egbert, she's just fucking with you."

He stops. "Oh." He turns his blinking eyes on the girl in question. "Really?"

"You never have been the most observant, John," Rose teases as Kanaya simply smiles, showing off her particularly sharp fangs.

"Are we talking about John being stupid again?" Jade asks, walking over from the direction of Skaia High's student carpark and settling herself on the stairs in front of them - she can always be trusted to notice when the line they're sitting in is getting too damn long. Karkat is forever thankful for it. (Every morning too many of them gather in one place, whether it's outside the doors or in the hallways. They always end up sitting in a long string. There always ends up being yelling, which Karkat doesn't mind - obviously - but others do, teachers included. The point is, Jade is basically the glue holding them all together in all the most roundabout ways, as well as the direct ones.)

Dave snorts. "You know us, Harley, that's always a topic of discussion." She laughs.

"We were also busy comparing mine and Dave's friendship to Kraft grubsauce," Kanaya supplies ~~helpfully~~ entirely out of context. Jade doesn't ask. She's good like that.

Dave facepalms. "Is this some kind of coup? You guys _grew up_ using human terminology, I knew you in middle school, I _know_ you know what mayo is, I've heard you _say_ the word 'mayo' before. Why. Why are you doing this."

Karkat fucking cackles. It's been about a year, maybe two since he started picking up some Alternian terminology to ~~annoy his friends~~ show more interest in his culture (he admits it was about the culture initially, but habit is hard to break. What made him stick with it is how frustrated Dave gets), and it never stops being hilarious. Kanaya joined in a few months ago, and Rose seems to be considering doing the same. Dave will probably have an aneurysm if she does.

John grins. "Dave, it's obviously because you're being such a dick about it. Your dick is like, the only reason Karkat does anything."

"What." Karkat eyes John oddly. And embarrassedly.

"What." Dave's look is the same.

"I mean _you being a dick!_ Is the reason. Obviously. Yeah. Guys, stop looking at me like that!" He squirms uncomfortably.

"John," Karkat starts, but doesn't know how to finish.

"You're a fucking idiot," Dave and Jade chorus, like they've had practice. Which they have. Lots. John is very good at being an idiot.

"Yeah. That." Karkat isn't sure how to describe the feeling in his gut.

"I have a feeling today is going to be a very long day," Rose says, voice full of more amusement than negativity.

"You and me both," he seconds, significantly more irritated, but it's fake. Most of it. Enough that he can smile, even if he is wearing a shitty tiny scarf and Dave's elbow is digging into his ribs indefinitely.


End file.
